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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391952">Lace is More</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietcarnage/pseuds/quietcarnage'>quietcarnage</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Acting innocent, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming Untouched, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Hero Quentin Beck, Lace Panties, Light Feminization, M/M, Peter Parker in Love, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Spiderio Exchange April 2020, Thirsty Peter Parker, Well - Freeform, kind of, more like, oh my god they were roommates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:01:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietcarnage/pseuds/quietcarnage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter wears a thong under his suit. Every time he suits up, he finds that he always catches Quentin staring at his choice of underwear with less-than-wholesome intentions. <br/>Tired of trying to figure out what their relationship is, he surprises his roommate-slash-super-hero-buddy Quentin by dressing himself up nice and pretty in the most seductive pair of panties he owns. The results could be disastrous…  or he could finally get laid.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Quentin Beck/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Spiderio 18+ Exchange April 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lace is More</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifangirl69/gifts">Multifangirl69</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the Spiderio fic exchange hosted by crookedneighbour</p><p> A gift for Multifangirl69</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter didn’t know what spurred him to do it. Well, no, that was a lie. He knew full well. </p><p>Underneath the Spider-Man suit, he didn’t wear much. If he was in a rush, he’d go commando, but more often than not, a nice, quality thong did the trick. It made the suit look better, something he’d discovered when he first tried on the spandex. Outside of Spider-Man, he truly had no excuse for why he kept wearing it, or why he kept buying more. </p><p>He wasn’t an idiot, he knew that Quentin knew about his choice of undergarments. He saw the way Quentin looked at him when they suited up. The way his eyes followed the lines of his chiseled body (thank you, spider bite), and how attracted he seemed to his v-string. If he made a show out of dressing up, well, no one had to know. </p><p>It was a bit ridiculous how much the two of them danced around each other. He wanted Quentin. And judging by the way Quentin stared at the lacey thong he’d picked out that morning, it was obvious he wanted him too. He was tired of the whole will-we-won’t-we game they played. The pet names Quentin called him, the playful slaps to his ass, the occasional spooning, and they <em>still</em> hadn’t fucked. He was pretty sure that if he went another day without at least trying to hop on Mysterio’s dick he was gonna lose it.</p><p>It wasn’t like Quentin was completely uninterested, he wasn’t totally shooting his shot in the dark here. He had come home one night in one of MJ’s old dresses after a particularly grisly fight tore his suit to shreds, and it was all she had on hand. The dress came up to his upper thighs, but it was better than wearing nothing but a thong. When Quentin saw him, he choked on his food and excused himself to his room, a magazine conveniently held in front of his crotch.</p><p>So yes, he did know why he was doing it. And if it totally flopped, or he read all the signs wrong, he was about to lose one of his closest friends. Either way, it was too late as the door handle to Quentin’s room turned, opening with a quiet hiss. At the sight of Peter, he froze in the doorway, his eyebrows raising to comedic heights, his jaw barely restrained from just dropping to the floor.</p><p>Peter was on his laptop, laying on his belly on top of Quentin’s soft duvet, the room barely lit by candles. He wore a pair of Victoria's Secret lace panties underneath a skirt he had borrowed from MJ, with a simple pink hoodie on top to keep it casual. He thought about a pair of high heels as well to seal the whole look together, but opted for thigh high socks instead. There was a touch of mascara coated on his eyelashes as well, a subtle but effective trick to make his eyes look much bigger and more feminine.</p><p>“Welcome home, Beck.” He said, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Your bathroom has better water pressure than the one in the hall.”</p><p>“Honey, what are you wearing?” Quentin shut the bedroom door behind him</p><p>Peter looked down, tugging at the hoodie. “What, this? It’s just an old hoodie Betty lent me a few years ago. All my other clothes are in the wash.” He felt the bed sink with weight as Quentin sat down beside him, settling a hand on his lower back. “Is that so?”</p><p>Despite trying his hardest to act as composed as possible, he was almost certain that his heart was pounding loud enough to be heard. He gulped. “Uh huh.”</p><p>“And the skirt?”</p><p>Peter felt his face flush red and sat up on his heels to turn and face the man directly. “What’s wrong with my skirt? ” He batted his lashes, making himself look as doe-eyed as possible. Quentin looked like he was halfway between leaving the room and tearing into him, his lip loosely bit, eyes roaming up and down Peter’s body. He took in a breath. “Peter.”</p><p>“Yes, daddy?”</p><p>Quentin stared into his eyes, completely unwavering, pupils blown dark. “I’m gonna get this stupid suit off now. Do you wanna explain yourself, doll?” </p><p>“I don’t know what you mean, Beck.” Beck slid his chestplate off, shrugging out of the tighter bodysuit. From the way Peter sat, his legs ever so slightly parted, the growing hardness in between became more and more evident under the loose skirt. “You know exactly what I mean. If we’re going to play your game now, that’s not what I want you to call me, babe.”</p><p>“Sorry, daddy.”</p><p>“That’s better.” Beck growled, stripped down to his birthday suit, the darkness in his eyes making him look like he could eat him alive. “Did you think you could get away with wearing shit like this around the apartment without consequences baby?”</p><p>“No daddy. Wanted you. Wanted you so bad.”</p><p>“I know honey.” He stepped in front of Peter, one hand gripping his chin and tilting it up just enough so their eyes met. Without warning, Quentin leaned down, fiercly capturing Peter’s lips with his own. Peter keened, his arms snaking up Beck’s shoulders to get a firmer grip as he felt himself pushed backwards onto the soft duvet. With the bigger man’s large form looming over him, he couldn’t help but buck his hips up seeking friction.</p><p>“Fuck, Peter.” Quentin groaned, palming at Peter’s erection. His skirt had hitched up to reveal the lace lingerie below. “You like that? You like dressing up for daddy? Don’t think I didn’t notice your pretty mascara either.” He stroked him through the lace, sucking marks into the crook of Peter’s neck. “Y-yes sir. Just for you.” The silky, textured feeling of the panties against the heat of his cock made him ache with need, the tip already soaking the front with pre. </p><p>With Beck’s form looming over him, and the consistent friction on his leaking member, he started stripping the hoodie off. It wasn’t exactly something he wanted to get sticky in per say. As soon as the hoodie was off, Quentin seemingly decided that that was enough foreplay. He lightly swatted the side of Peter’s thigh, a firm “turn around,” ordered, to which he enthusiastically complied with.</p><p>Quentin didn’t bother removing the skirt, only pulling it up enough for Peter to present his perfect ass to him laid over the corner of the bed. “Look so beautiful like this, babygirl.” He growled, both hands gripping either side of Peter’s waist and hoisting him closer before tugging the panties to the side just enough to reveal his hole.</p><p>His breath hitched. There was no other way to put it, Peter had prepped himself with a cute, pastel blue plug. Quentin firmly pressed on it, and the whine Peter let out was outright sinful. “Peter, honey, did you plan on getting fucked tonight?”</p><p>“N-no, I was just um…” Peter wracked his brain for an excuse, but came up with a blank. He opted to just keep his mouth shut, feigning innocence and shrugging. </p><p>“You’re gonna fucking kill me, doll.” He felt the pressure as Quentin tugged on the plug, slowly removing it, pausing around the wide end before jerking the rest of it out. Peter felt empty, missing the sensation of being filled despite knowing that he was about to be stuffed with something much more delicious.</p><p>“It’s a shame, really. I wanted to prep you myself. Watch you bend and moan around my fingers.” He muttered, watching Peter squirm in anticipation below him. “I’m sorry daddy.”</p><p>He leaned down and spit on his hole, pausing to admire the sight as Peter flinched at the contact. Without looking, he reached his hand into the drawer by the bed, fishing out a bottle of lube. Haphazardly squirting some onto his hand, he quickly slicked himself up before lining up with Peter’s hole. “I know, baby,” he ran a hand over the full curve of his ass, leaning his body forward to press a bite onto his shoulder as he pushed the tip of his cock in.</p><p>Peter’s eyes rolled with pleasure, his hips rocking back. To his disappointment, Quentin moved back as well, not granting him the satisfaction of being filled. He whined, only to be shushed by Beck clicking his tongue at him. “You might have set this all up, hon, but I call the shots, got it?” </p><p>“Beck, please-”</p><p>“Wrong." He growled, pulling out completely. Peter turned his head around, hair falling in front of his eyes as he pleadingly looked up at Quentin. “D-daddy,” he begged, “I need you. Need you so bad. I waited so long, I can’t wait anymore, just fuck me already. Come on, for fucks s-” He was cut off by his own moan, Beck’s cock suddenly buried deep within him without warning. The pain of being so suddenly stretched around his girth, even with the plug prepping him mixed with the pleasure of his prostate being prodded made him see stars.</p><p>“Where are your manners, hon?” Quentin whispered lowly in his ear. Peter gulped.  With Quentin’s pelvis pressed flush against him, it forced his body deeper into the mattress he was bent over, his hardened cock straining against the lace panties. With Quentin refusing to move, every slight movement sent shivers throughout his whole body as he felt his length rubbing against the texture of the lace. </p><p>It wasn’t enough to bring him anywhere, but it was just enough to frustrate him completely. Through gritted teeth and clenched eyes, he managed to mutter out an “I’m so sorry, will you please please move?” </p><p>Thankfully, Quentin complied, slowly rocking his hips back and forth at an agonizingly slow pace. “Only because my good girl asked so nicely.” </p><p>Finally getting the stimulation he craved, he relaxed under Quentin, softly mumbling a “thank you, daddy.” </p><p>Quentin moaned at the compliance, his pace picking up ever so slightly as gripped the skirt with one hand, using it as leverage to force himself deeper with each thrust. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, hon. Dressing up nice and pretty, waiting for me so perfectly on my bed. You knew I’d take one look at that perky little ass of yours and pounce, didn’t you?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Peter gripped the sheets, rocking his hips back to match Quentin’s pace. Releasing the skirt, Quentin reached around to wrap his arm around Peter’s body, lifting it ever so slightly to stroke his cock in time with the thrusts. “I hope you’d know. The way you walk around our flat, wearing your pretty panties and thongs under your suit like I wouldn’t notice.” He sped up, thumb rubbing over the tip of Peter’s cock, spreading the leaking pre around his shaft before using the same hand to reach up and pinch at his nipples. With his mouth occupied between growling dirty nothings into Peter’s ear and sucking dark, claiming marks onto his neck, they were getting all sorts of sticky, neither one seeming to care.</p><p>“I wanna touch every pretty little part of you, baby, cause you’re mine now, you understand?” He pulled out quickly, leaving Peter gasping as he used both hands to turn Peter over onto his back. With one swift motion, he tore the lace panties off, before lifting the skirt out of the way and sliding right back into the tight heat and setting a punishingly quick pace, a total 180 from the agonizingly slow pace before, throwing Peter into a pleasure induced daze. “No one else is ever gonna make you feel the way I do, babydoll, and you know it, don’t you.”</p><p>Peter wrapped his arms around Quentin’s neck, pulling them closer and nodding, his words getting stuck in his throat between his moaning and begging, meshing into barely coherent babblings of. “Yes, daddy,” and “I’m yours, all yours.” </p><p>“That’s my good girl, Peter.” He bucked his hips, face tomato red as he chased the coiling heat in his core, Quentin relentlessly pounding him into the mattress. His cock bounced with every indecent sound of skin against skin, a whine slipping out of his throat. He felt his balls tighten, Quentin’s angry pace and love bites pushing him over the edge as he wordlessly came all over his and Beck’s chest.</p><p>He felt like jello, the dull ache of Quentin still pounding into him causing him to twitch with overstimulation. “F-fuck, Beck I-” The words were kissed from his lips as Beck’s thrusts became short and less graceful before finally stilling in him, filling his hole with a satisfying, sloppy heat.</p><p>-</p><p>When Quentin finally pulled out, there was a brief moment of a tense, ‘now-what’ filled silence. Peter breathily laughed out a “holy shit,” as he slapped a hand over his face, “I don’t think I can move right now, can you help me clean up?”</p><p>Quentin snorted, picking up the panties he ripped off earlier and wiping his spent cock with it before teasingly tossing it over onto Peter. “You better buy me a new pair.” </p><p>“Honey, I’ll buy you all the panties you’ll ever want.” He smiled, laying down next to him, before his expression shifted to one of nervousness. “To tell you the truth, I really do like you, Peter, and forgive me if I’m being too forward, but I’m honestly hoping that this won’t be a one-time thing.” </p><p>“Quentin,” he deadpanned, “I’ve been trying to hop on your dick for months. If you think I’m stopping now after <em>that</em>, you are so, so wrong.” </p>
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